


Brotherly Alliance

by kirakira_nanoda



Series: Love, Lust, and Alliance [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Implied Incest, M/M, Slash, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakira_nanoda/pseuds/kirakira_nanoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Mycoft repay John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brotherly Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from [Brotherly Lust](http://archiveofourown.org/works/360707), which follow on from [Brotherly Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/360673)  
> 

Mycroft dropped his final piece of clothing and crawled onto the bed, sitting himself comfortably between John’s legs and placing his hands on the good doctor’s boxer covered thighs.

‘Objections John?’ Sherlock asked, his fingers toying with the hem of John’s shirt, the smirk curling its way into his voice. He knew John would consent. Like his brother Sherlock had already stripped, his erection nudging John none too gently in the back, John unable to move away as Sherlock held him tightly from behind.

John sucked in a deep breath, thinking about how not five minutes ago he had been blissfully asleep, skin warmed from his duvet and hair just a little damp from his bath, having a peaceful dream that he could be fucked if he could remember what it was about now. John supposed waking up with a hand down your pants and a tongue down your throat would make you forget things like that. Not that he was complaining; Sherlock and Mycroft had known he would hold no qualms being woken up in such a manner and they took full advantage of the fact sleep was the only time John let his guard down. A guard that had been on high alert ever since Sherlock had mentioned that he and Mycroft had intended on _thanking_ him for letting them use him to fuck each other. To what extent they were planning on thanking him, John didn’t know, but considering how he was woken up, it didn’t look good for his sanity.

John sucked in another deep breath as Mycroft’s fingers slipped up the legs of his boxers.

‘John,’ Sherlock whispered. ‘Dear brother of mine needs to hear the words from your lips before his do something much more sinful.’ John could only moan his consent, feeling Mycroft’s warm breath against the inside of his thigh. Oh god. He knew where those lips were going.

Consent granted, they stripped him with barely a hitch, rendering him naked and... wait... blindfolded?

‘Um... is the blindfold really necessary?’ John asked, trying to reach up and adjust it only to have Sherlock grab his arms and hold them back. ‘I really don’t see the point of it,’ he added, not sure he liked the idea of not being able to see just what they were doing to him. John felt a chill run up his spine, like there was electricity in the air. It took him awhile to work out they were smirking, and John could _feel_ it. This did not bode well for him.

‘Wait and see,’ Mycroft whispered, pushing John down so he was mostly reclined against Sherlock’s chest, sat in between his legs. Sherlock nudged the side of John’s head with his nose, making the doctor turn slightly so Sherlock could get to his ear. ‘Oh the things I would do to you...’ Sherlock rumbled, hands tight around John’s wrists, keeping him pinned, making sure John was paying attention to what he was saying. Oh, John was listening. That velvety voice was arousing enough without it dropping another octave and taking on a lusty tone. Fuck, John completely forgot Mycroft was there, which was oddly the point.

‘I’d spread you legs and kiss my way up your thighs...’ Sherlock started, John gasping as his legs were spread and lips were pressed against his skin, thinking for a moment Sherlock had somehow managed to get inside his head and make him feel everything he was saying, before remembering Mycroft. _Oh bloody hell, Mycroft!_ They were mind fucking him again! Sherlock directing his brother with his sinful words in John’s ear, making John think he was going insane from lust. He probably was. He definitely would before these two were finished with him.

‘... I’d nip at your skin and leave a mark only I would know about...’ Sherlock continued, his gravelly monologue making John let loose a little whimper as Mycroft sucked a spot right on the inside of his thigh. ‘You’re already leaking for me,’ Sherlock observed, Mycroft blowing on the tip of John’s arousal making the man almost buck. John moaned, trying to spread his legs a little wider, waiting for Sherlock’s voice to tell him what he was going to do with his cock. What he got instead was two brothers laughing at him.

‘Oh, John,’ Sherlock breathed, hot in his ear, ‘you know I’m a tease. I wouldn’t have it so easily.’

‘No,’ came Mycroft’s voice in John’s other ear, his fingers coming to wrap around John’s wrists as Sherlock’s departed. ‘I would want to have you begging for it.’ John swallowed hard. They’d swapped roles with perfect timing, John forgetting about Sherlock as Mycroft took over as the voice, the good doctor waiting for the next words, not believing how incredibly arousing this was. ‘I would have you suck on my fingers...’ Sherlock’s long digits were running against John’s lips, John taking them in before he even registered what was happening. Mycroft made an appreciative noise, and suddenly John was not so sure it _was_ Sherlock’s fingers he was sucking on, but then who had a hold of his wrists? Oh god, John’s brain was getting the equivalent of a rough shag against a door. He squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and tried to concentrate on breathing.

‘You have such a natural ability for sucking, Doctor Watson,’ Mycroft purred. ‘I may need to put those lips of yours to good use.’ Those fingers started thrusting in and out of John’s mouth, cutting down the man’s reply to a single long moan. God he was so hard, this was ridiculous. ‘Unfortunately I need my fingers for other purposes, so you will have to make do with my mouth.’ Suddenly the fingers were gone and there were lips pressed against his. Definitely Sherlock because of the angle, the man was sitting behind him and so John had to kiss over his shoulder... wait, was Sherlock still sitting behind him? John hadn’t thought they’d moved but now he wasn’t sure. He could hear them both moaning like they were being kissed, feel two pairs of wet fingers toying with his nipples, and suddenly he had no idea where anyone was or what was going on.

Lips trailed down his neck, leaving marks on both sides. He still had no idea who was who but he could feel his thighs being spread wider, his wrists still remaining in a firm grip. There was shifting about him and whoever it had been sitting behind him was suddenly no longer there, two pairs of hands pushing him back down onto the mattress as two sets of lips set about attacking each ear. It was all about touch, John not being able to see heightening his other senses, making him shiver at the most delicate of caresses. He felt every breath ghosting across his skin, every nip, every suck. The Holmeses were slowly torturing him, holding him down firmly into the mattress as he started to writhe.

They knew all his weak spots, applying their synchronized attacks with such skill. Flicking their tongues along the shell of John’s ear, they started their slow decent down his body, attacking his erogenous zones, licking down his neck before each taking a nipple into their mouths and sucking. John’s back arched off the bed, hands on his hips and on his shoulders not enough to stop him thrashing against their ministrations. Their hot tongues slid over his abdomen on their way to a definite destination, only making a detour to his hips so they could try and out-love-bite the other –  John positive he would have quite the marks there – before finally moving down to his arousal.

John’s wrists were pinned so he couldn’t interfere and his hips held down more firmly as Mycroft and Sherlock slowly licked up his length. He was sweating with anticipation and almost panting by the time they got to the tip, tongues sliding under his glands before lips were pressed to the spongy head.

‘I think John might like to watch,’ Sherlock teased, lips never parting from John’s cock as he spoke. ‘Can we let him, dear brother?’ John failed miserably in holding back a whimper.

‘Don’t be such a tease, Sherlock,’ Mycroft berated letting his lips leave only so he could breath out his words across John’s sensitive skin. ‘I think the wait is killing the poor doctor.’

Sherlock huffed, causing John’s cock to twitch and the poor doctor’s heart rate to increase. ‘You know as well as I he would be happier if he could watch us fight over his arousal.’ John gasped. His guilty pleasure of watching those two had been out for quite some time now but it still made him feel dirty knowing that they knew.

‘Imagination is always better than the real thing, dear brother,’ Mycroft said before suddenly the tip of John’s cock disappeared into a hot mouth, the doctor crying out as Sherlock hissed.

‘What happened to _sharing_ , Mycroft?’ Sherlock complained as John was licked clean of pre-cum. ‘Besides, I beg to differ on your theory. You rather out shone my imagination when you _fucked_ me.’

‘Sherlock,’ Mycroft warned. ‘We have more pressing matters at hand here.’ As if to demonstrate his words he started stroking John’s cock, working from base to tip with deft fingers, pinching off the bead of pre-cum that was foolish enough to form. A hand left John’s wrists and John immediately removed the blindfold, just in time to see Sherlock licking the stickiness off his brother’s fingers. Their eyes were locked onto each other’s as Sherlock sucked those long digits into his mouth, John completely forgotten until his whimper brought the attention back to him.

‘Told you,’ Sherlock said, mocking his brother before taking his turn to have at John’s cock. John’s free hand slapped instantly to Sherlock’s head, tugging at his curls as the enthusiastic bobbing grew faster. Sherlock eventually pulled off and launched himself at John’s lips, letting him taste and distracting him from what Mycroft was doing. Before John realized he was blindfolded again and on his feet, Sherlock at his back and Mycroft at his front, feeling the heat coming off of their bodies as they both wrapped their arms around him.

Hands made their way to his cock, stroking him gently and massaging his balls as the other set of hands quite deftly grabbed his arse. John keened a little, thinking this was probably the best situation he could be in. That was of course until he heard the unmistakable sound of Sherlock and Mycroft making out over his shoulder, John desperate to see but not able to because of the blindfold, his arms trapped. If Sherlock was right in rejecting Mycroft’s claim that imagination was better than the real thing then it was probably best that John couldn’t see them. His imagination of what was going on was enough to make him tremble, he’d hate to know how he would be able to cope actually being able to see it. Yes, he’d seen them kiss before but this sounded a hell of a lot more passionate, Sherlock’s broken moans being panted straight into John’s ear as those hands fondled him harder the deeper the kiss became.

Finally it broke off and the Holmes’ attention turned back to John, leaving a trail of marks down his body as they both fell to their knees. The sudden loss of any support almost toppled John to the ground, the synchronized timing of lips wrapping around the head of his cock and pressing against his tailbone not helping the standing situation at all. Flailing a bit John’s hands eventually found Mycroft’s head, the man moaning appreciatively as John threaded his fingers through his hair. As Mycroft took more of John’s shaft into his mouth, Sherlock moved further down towards his entrance, teasing tongues assaulting John from both ends.

The steady pace didn’t last long, both Sherlock and Mycroft building up a faster rhythm making John really wish he was lying down.

Mycroft had no gag reflex and John could almost feel his nose brushing the curls of hair at the base of his prick every time he took him in to the hilt. The suction and the gentle scrape of teeth were just perfect, John’s fingers tightening in those locks every time Mycroft swallowed around him. How many people could say they’ve had the British Government on their knees before them? Not that many and certainly not like this. John would have giggled at the thought if he wasn’t so distracted.

Sherlock had no shame, that devious tongue wandering everywhere, slicking up his taint before wriggling its way into his entrance. Sherlock knew John had taken a rather long bath tonight – even joined him in it for a while – John really grateful for that as there was no hesitation as to where that mouth wandered, biting John’s meticulously cleaned skin before all out tongue-fucking him in time with Mycroft’s bobs.

John doubled over, gripping Mycroft’s head for dear life as he feared his legs would give out on him. Unfortunately for him, this new position gave Sherlock much more access, making it easier for the bold stripes of his tongue to thrust in deeper. It was the twist and the flick at the end that did it, John’s legs shaking violently, gasping as the threat of a fall became very real. Without missing a beat, Sherlock replaced his tongue with slick fingers, simultaneously standing and wrapping his free arm around John’s waist, pulling John back flush against his chest, and holding him up. With the stress off his legs John was once again consumed by pleasure. Sherlock’s fingers were even more sinful than his tongue, teasing his prostate every now and again as they twisted inside him. Mycroft’s mouth was still doing wonders with his cock and now his hands had joined in on the assault, cupping John’s bollocks as he gently squeezed him.

John almost burst a lung sucking in a gigantic breath as he felt another set of slick fingers teasing around his entrance, Mycroft’s digits gliding in beside Sherlock’s, setting a different pace and twisting a different way to make John absolutely lose it. Where they had both gotten the lubricant, John couldn’t fathom, not caring to ask as those long digits ganged up on him. The sensation of two sets of fingers opening him up as a very skilful tongue worked his shaft was one John couldn’t quite articulate into words (unless hhhnnngggg was a word, in which case that’s exactly how John would describe it), John trying to both thrust into that mouth and back on those fingers. It wouldn’t end like this, it _couldn’t_ end like this; John wouldn’t let it. As good as it was they had all but promised to fuck John insane, and he was still hanging on to a tiny shred of sanity.

‘Sh-Sherlock,’ John gasped, letting his head fall back onto the man’s shoulder. ‘Fuck me?’ Well this was supposed to be about John, he figured he was allowed to ask for what he wanted, and there was something about the way Mycroft _watched_ that made John feel like voyeurism was made just for that man.

‘Avec plaisir,’ came Sherlock’s sultry reply, making John shudder as he took off the blindfold and reached out to tangle his fingers in his brother’s hair to pull him off John’s cock. Mycroft looked up at them, not needing Sherlock to explain. He showed he could be just as sinful as Sherlock, looking directly at John as he stuck out his tongue to lick away the stray bead of pre-cum, making both Sherlock and John suck in a deep breath as he stood up. Hands on John’s shoulders, Mycroft backed both him and Sherlock towards the bed, Sherlock crawling on top of it and finding the best position. Mycroft pulled John up onto his tippy toes and kissed him deeply, the poor doctor dizzy by the time he was manoeuvred into Sherlock’s lap, Mycroft sitting behind him in between his brother’s spread legs. John went to position himself over Sherlock’s cock but Mycroft halted him, holding him still just a bare inch away from pleasure.

‘Mycroft,’ John whined, useless in the elder Holmes’ grip, the man not looking like he was going to let go any time soon.

‘Hush,’ Mycroft soothed. ‘Look up.’ John did and he found that Sherlock had positioned them in such a way that John could see everything reflected in his wardrobe mirror, moaning a little when he saw the look Mycroft was giving him.

‘I think John would enjoy watching us fuck more,’ Sherlock said, obviously trying to tempt.

Mycroft shook his head. ‘You mustn’t be selfish, Sherlock. This is about John. Besides, we had our time.’

‘You had me,’ Sherlock corrected. ‘What I wouldn’t give to dominate you.’ Mycroft finally let go of John and pushed him down on Sherlock’s cock, ignoring John’s cry of pleasure as he leant over his shoulder to speak directly to his brother.

‘Later, Sherlock. Right now John needs that fine cock of yours to take him apart.’ Sherlock needed no more words to start, pushing up into John roughly and making the man gasp. Oh yeah, they both knew how John wanted this. Sherlock had a bone meltingly hard rhythm established within seconds, John holding on tight as he was given the ride of his life. Sure Sherlock was doing most of the work but John was still sweating like all hell, panting in time with those thrusts.

‘Tell me what it feels like, John,’ Mycroft purred in his ear, the sultry sound of his voice sending a shiver down John’s overheated body. ‘Tell me what he’s doing to you.’

‘Oh...’ John licked his lips, opening his mouth but the words wouldn’t come. Mycroft wanted John to talk him through exactly what Sherlock was doing to him and John couldn’t. The idea itself – that Mycroft would get off on the details of what his brother was doing to John – was mind-blowing in itself, incredibly dirty and arousing, and it seemed John’s brain had decided to go on holiday with that thought and left him all by himself. All he knew was pleasure and all he could focus on besides Sherlock’s cock up his arse was Mycroft watching them, John able to see the way his eyes were travelling all over their bodies in the reflection of the mirror. He was simply _drinking_ _in_ the sight of his baby brother fucking another man, and oh god John was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He was pretty glad he managed when he caught sight of Mycroft wrapping his long fingers around his own cock, eyes focused solely on the point where Sherlock and John were joined.

That was it. Fuck, John wasn’t a teenager anymore, he couldn’t hold on any longer. Mycroft looked up and locked eyes with John in the mirror and that would have done him in had it not been for the sudden tightness around the base of his cock. Sherlock was effectively choking off his orgasm while maintaining an increasing amount of pleasure and John had the feeling this was the point he was going to lose his sanity to lust.

Mycroft moved up closer behind him and started mouthing at his neck, his hands sliding up to John’s chest to toy with his nipples as Sherlock continued to thrust. John arched his back and gasped as Sherlock tugged at his balls, increasing the urgent need to spend himself but the brothers did not seem to be willing to let him.

Fingers, teeth, tongues, lips – everything was assaulting him until John was practically _writhing_ about on Sherlock’s cock, begging for mercy. One more thrust and Sherlock let go, throwing John into a back arching, toe curling orgasm that saw him coating Sherlock’s chest in his release, moans torn from his lips as Mycroft’s firm hands on his hips kept him grinding down on Sherlock’s cock, Sherlock stroking John’s prick for everything it had.

John felt his body give up, oxygen starvation making him dizzy as he desperately tried to gulp down air. He went limp in Mycroft’s hold, knowing from the rigid cock still up his arse that Sherlock hadn’t finished, knowing too that there really wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it now.

‘It’s all right, John,’ Mycroft said softly, reading the man’s thoughts. ‘This was about _you_ , you don’t need to worry about us.’ John was carefully manoeuvred down onto the mattress, Mycroft reaching for a flannel to clean him up. A frustrated sound drew John’s attention to Sherlock, the man obviously having been close when John came and was now trying desperately to calm himself down. John was unable to help him with the problem, but maybe...

‘You can help with that,’ John said to Mycroft, indicating towards Sherlock, noting the younger Holmes had caught his brother’s attention as well. ‘I-I won’t mind.’

‘Don’t encourage my brother,’ Mycroft berated. ‘He can deal with it himself. Now, John, you must be tired, so sorry we interrupted your sleep.’ Mycroft gave a smile that John thought the perfect picture of evil.

‘My arse you’re sorry,’ John mumbled, pretending that being woken up for a fantastic shag was some kind of hardship.

Mycroft raised his eyebrow before turning to his brother. ‘Come along Sherlock, let John sleep,’ he said before adding something in a different language John couldn’t understand. Whatever it was it had Sherlock up in a flash and John was once again left alone to go back to sleep, thinking how not five minutes ago he was in the throes of orgasm, his skin warmed from exertion and hair damp from sweat. He had a feeling he was going to be dreaming about naughty things tonight and hoped to hell he would be able to remember them when he woke up. He was too exhausted to wonder what Sherlock and Mycroft were up to and promptly fell asleep.

****

John was woken up the next morning by Sherlock’s lanky frame wrapping around him, impossibly cold feet pressing against the backs of his calves. John groaned and turned in Sherlock’s grip, rubbing his sleepy eyes before  properly being able to focus on Sherlock. His hair was an absolute mess, a wild tangle of curls sticking up in all the wrong places, something that John _knew_ he hadn’t done the previous night.  

John looked at him. ‘You and Mycroft had sex after I passed out, didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Sherlock replied, hiding nothing in his tone. John nodded, trying not to pout. Sherlock smirked at him. ‘Don’t worry, we filmed it so you can watch it later.’

John swallowed hard. ‘R-really?’

Sherlock nodded. ‘I’ll watch it with you if you like.’

‘Now?’ John asked a little eagerly.

Sherlock chuckled. ‘Oh John, the things we did... I don’t think you have the energy to handle that just yet.’

John really couldn’t tell if Sherlock was joking, half hoping he was and the half so hoping he wasn’t. They were going to be the death of him.

  



End file.
